Carlee’s eyes lowered. She gazed at their lean hips and long legs, recalling her youthful curiosity, wondering what lay beneath the snug-fitting jeans they wore now.
She lifted her head. Two wide chests met her direct line of vision.
Raising her eyes, she looked at their faces, her heart pounding just like it did all those years ago…
“Little warrior,” Ben murmured, a corner of his mouth lifting. “We meet again.”
Chapter Three
“We heard you were back in town.” Dan whistled low, the timbre of his deep voice held an appreciative note. He tipped his head to one side, studying Carlee. “But we didn’t believe you actually turned into Ida Davis’ clone.”
Carlee hated his derisive tone. Her mind drifted once more…
She managed to sneak into the Montauks’ reservation again, but this time, she came with a different purpose in mind. That night, she dared to kiss Dan first, while Ben watched. Dan’s lips met hers gently, coaxing her mouth open. The tip of his tongue teased her lower lip. She felt a tingle there—it traveled lower—to her belly, then down her thighs…
“Why are you doing this?” Dan asked.
The sound of his voice, laced with censure, brought Carlee back to the present.
He reached out, snagging one of Carlee’s unruly curls, winding it around his finger. When he let go, the curl bounced against her cheek.
She shoved it behind her ear.
“This isn’t you, Carlee.” Dan stated.
A decadent thrill shot through her while she kissed Dan. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ben's shift from one foot to the other. Did he enjoy watching her kiss his friend? Would Dan enjoy watching her kiss Ben? Filled with anticipation, she broke away from Dan, moving toward Ben. He stood tall and proud, waiting, watching her every move. She could see the rise and fall of his chest the closer she got…the force of his desire evident. She never saw a man’s private parts before, and now, Ben’s hard cock pushed against his loincloth. Carlee could see the outline, her pulse racing, her mind filled with salacious thoughts…
“I’m not Ida’s clone,” she replied, her tone defensive, but the truth hurt just the same.
Maybe it stung a little more, coming from Dan.
Ben folded his arms across his chest. “You really do look like Ida.” He shook his head and dropped his arms. “I thought you moved away from Montauk.” He looked around the store. “Why did you come back to this?”
She shrugged, trying to calm the racing beat of her heart.
“I came home when my aunt died. My family needed me.”
Did she sound as lame to them as she did to herself? Why didn’t she just tell him the truth—that her Aunt Ida’s dying wishes forced her back to the place she hated?
Her thoughts drifted again…
Ben reached for her; she fit easily within his arms. He kissed her until she had no breath left in her body. She leaned into him, feeling his hot, hard length against her thigh. Dan stood off to the side, a smile on his face. Oh, how she enjoyed it! She wished Dan would join them. She reached out; he took her hand, stepping closer to her and Ben. Dan kissed the nape of her neck, his lips trailing across her shoulder…
Dan’s face grew taut. “Seems to me your family still has that same hold on you.”
“There’s no crime in helping your family.” She angled her chin at Dan.
Hoping to perfect her lofty performance, she raised her right eyebrow. When she tried to lower it, she couldn’t move her eye. Panic clawed at her insides. Blinking rapidly, she managed to dislodge the false eyelash stuck to her upper lid, but it hurt like hell.
Carlee glanced at Dan’s leather jacket. Her eyelash lay against one lapel.
Dan followed her gaze, plucking the eyelash from its hiding spot.
“Lose something?” he grinned, holding up the strip of false eyelash.
She snatched it from the tip of his index finger.
Carlee’s face heated. She couldn’t be sure if it was the warmth from the steam trays near the catering counter or embarrassment.
She remembered the last time Dan and Ben made her feel small.
Ben ended the kiss, pushing her away. Dan stepped aside, too, he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Don’t you like kissing me?” she cried, looking at the two of them.
Ben’s face softened. He ran a finger down her wet cheek. “You don’t know how much, Carlee.”
She smiled, her young heart filled with joy. “Then don’t stop. Let’s do it again.” She took a step toward Ben.
He backed away.
She looked to Dan for support. He held up a hand. “No, Carlee. This has to stop.”
“Go home.” Ben told her. “And stay there.”
“But why?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand, I—”
“You’re too young for us.” Dan’s voice brooked no argument.
“I am not!” She challenged, folding her arms under her breasts. “I’m sixteen.”
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.” Ben told her. “Besides, what does your family think of you hanging out with two Indians?”
“They love the idea.” She lied.
Dan’s face flushed. His jaw tightened. “I’ll bet they do.”
Ben’s voice was tight, angry. “You’ve been sneaking in here all summer and—”
“I don’t care what my family thinks.” She lifted her nose in the air. “I’ll tell them the truth, I will, you just wait and see.”
“And if they don’t allow you to see us anymore?”
“I’ll fight them,” she swore. “I will.”
“Ah, little warrior,” Ben’s voice held a tender note. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you; don’t waste it on us …”
Carlee shoved the sticky, glue-covered false eyelash in the pocket of her apron.
Ben shook his head, his eyes fixed on the Davis Poultry Farm apron that Carlee wore now. “Orange isn’t your color.” He grinned.
She wanted to smack the arrogant smile from his face.
“When I want fashion tips, I’ll make sure to ask you.”
This time, Ben laughed. “Still the fighter.” In the next instant, his face turned serious. “I would never have imagined you doing what Ida did.”
She squared her shoulders. “Sometimes, life doesn’t always turn out the way you plan.”
Her heart skipped a few beats when she remembered their parting all those years ago…
“I don’t care about my family! I have plans for myself. Big plans.”
“And what would those be, little warrior?” Dan asked her.
“I’m going to be an artist. I’m going to art school and study art.”
“We’ve got plans, too. We won’t be staying on the reservation.”
Her eyes widened. “But, it’s fun. It’s—”
Ben’s face tightened, the angles and planes prominent. “For you, maybe, but not for us. Life is difficult here, Carlee. You’re not around all the time, you have no idea.”
She reached out a hand to Ben, then to Dan. “I could get you jobs on my family’s poultry farm.”
They didn’t take her hand. She felt them slipping away, little by little.
“We don’t want to work for your family.” Dan’s voice held a mocking tone. “We have our own plans.”
His smug tone hurt.
“What’s wrong with working for my family?” Her eyes filled. Damn, but she wouldn’t let them see her cry.
“It will always be like this.” Ben’s voice was soft. “You’ll always defend them.”
“No, I won’t!” The lie slipped from her lips, the corner of her eye trembling whenever she fibbed.
Dan and Ben’s sharp eyes saw it.
It was Ben who spoke. “You’re a lousy liar. You’ll always stick up for your family.
“They won’t accept us, you know they won’t.” Dan added.
Now, she held on fast to her dignity, pushing aside the painful memory. �
�Look, if there’s something I can help you with, let me know, otherwise—”
“There is.” Dan told her. “We’re looking for a turducken.”
She shook her head. “A what?”
“A turducken,” Ben chimed in. “It’s a—”
“Yes, that's it! We’re looking for one of those, too.” An elderly couple on line behind Ben and Dan echoed their request. “Do you carry them?”
Carlee didn’t want to appear ignorant, but damn, she had no idea what in hell they were talking about.
She put on her best Ida voice. “Of course we do, Mrs.—”
“Carmichael.” The older woman smiled at Carlee. “It’s nice to see you carrying on Ida’s tradition. It’s nice to see a member of the Davis family in the store.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ben and Dan snicker.
“So, where can I get a turducken?” Mrs. Carmichael asked.
“Just a minute,” Carlee held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”
She raced over to the fresh turkey counter. “Are we selling turmuckins?” She asked the young man behind the counter.
He scratched his head, a puzzled look on his face. “Tur…whats?”
“Turmudgeons.” She looked back to where Dan, Ben and the Carmichaels waited patiently. Giving them a jaunty wave and a big smile, she turned her attention back to the young man behind the counter.
His eyes widened. “Oh, you mean turduckens! Don’t you know what those are?”
“If I knew what they were, I wouldn’t be asking you.” She replied through clenched teeth.
“It’s a turkey, with a duck shoved inside.”
Carlee felt the blood slowly drain from her face.
“…Then they put a whole chicken inside the duck.” He turned and reached for something.
It looked to be the biggest bird she'd ever seen.
He opened the cavity wide. “We’ve got a nice, fresh, Long Island duck inside the turkey, and see this?”
She glanced at the birds nestled together, grimacing all the while. “There’s the chicken!” He shoved the duck aside to show the yellow skin of a chicken.
The room spun, her stomach churning. Carlee braced her hands against the counter in an attempt to steady her body, but her knees betrayed her, buckling when she caught sight of the young man holding the turducken up by its legs.
Her legs gave way.
A strong arm slid around her waist.
She heard the murmur of voices. “Is she okay?”
“Look, Miss Davis fainted.”
Oh, crap! She couldn’t, wouldn’t give in to the dizzy feeling—not in front of all those people.
Not in front of Ben and Dan.
She shoved at the arms supporting her, but they remained steadfast.
“Stop fighting.” Ben told her. “And just sit.”
He eased her into a nearby chair. Cold teased her lips. When she looked up, she saw Dan squatting in front of her. He had a water bottle in his hands.
“Here, drink it.” He tipped the bottle against her lips. “You’ll feel better.”
The icy cold water trickled down her throat, reviving her. She raised a brow when she noticed Dan staring.
A smile teased his mouth. “Brazilian?”
She frowned. “What’s that, some kind of bird?” She sighed. “If it is, I have no idea if we carry it.”
He raised her chin just a bit, holding the bottle to her mouth, urging her to drink more. She didn’t want to admit how good his coddling felt.
Again, his eyes dipped lower, to her skirt...her knees…
She looked down. “What?” she asked.
“No landing strip.” His voice held the faintest trace of humor. “Nice.”
Her eyes widened when she realized the direction his eyes took.
Dan had a great view of her parted legs…and a nice peek at her naked pussy.
She should be outraged. Offended. Mortally embarrassed. However, it was the first time in the entire miserable day that she felt free, like herself.
Moreover, maybe, she wanted him to see.
She glanced at Ben. He stood there, smirking.
“Enjoying the show?” She mouthed to him.
He winked.
Her face heated. So did her body. Ben’s hot look could have burned her alive.
Then she looked at Dan’s bent head. He looked up at her, smiling all the while. “I guess nothing really changes after all, does it, little warrior?” He shook his head. “You’re still the same wild child, looking for kicks.”
She rose from the chair, almost toppling Dan.
He stood, too, placing an arm on her shoulder. “Just stay put. You still look pale.”
She lifted her nose in the air. “I’m fine.” She let go of a breath. “Thank you.”
“What in hell happened?” Ben frowned. “One minute, you were standing there, and the next minute you almost hit the floor.
“It’s the heat.” She lied.
“Is that why you’re wearing no panties?” Dan grinned.
She looked around, and then answered in a low, seductive voice. “For your information, I don’t wear panties.”
He nodded, still smiling. “So we noticed.”
“I meant I wear…” She waved a hand through the air. “Forget it.”
Dan folded his arms over his chest, angling his head. “We thought you were going to faint. It happened when you looked at that turducken.”
“The what?” She frowned. “Oh, that.” The corner of her eye twitched. She could feel it tremble.
Ben stepped toward her. In a low voice, he said. “Are you ill?”
She stepped away, his closeness and concern threatening to make her cry. “No. And stop asking me so many questions, you sound like the police.” The corner of her eye trembled again.
“You always were a terrible liar.” Ben reached out a hand and smoothed the skin near her eye with the tip of his index finger.
She flinched, trying to decide if it was her reaction to his knowing she lied, or the sight of his long finger. Carlee imagined it sliding across her clit.
Dampness seeped between her legs.
For once, she wished she really wore a pair of panties.
Ben’s eyes traveled to her chest.
Her breasts felt heavy. She sucked in a breath, then released it quickly.
Ben raised one brow. “Um, Carlee?” He cleared his throat.
“What?”
“I, uh, well—” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this—”
“Well, don’t bother.” She huffed.
She started to walk away, but stopped when the falsie hidden in the right side of her bra slipped. Carlee glanced at her reflection in the polished metal side of the tall freezer case next to the counter.
Her chest was lopsided.
Crap!
She tried to straighten it, but that didn’t work. Her reflection now included Dan and Ben. They watched her attempt, with Ben trying hard not to laugh.
No matter what she did, her chest still looked cockeyed.
Maybe a hole would appear in the floor and swallow her up.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Carlee, look, I—”
She turned and faced Ben holding onto the last threads of her self-respect. “The turduckens are over there.” Carlee pointed to the counter. “Help yourself.”
She walked away.
“Carlee, wait!” Dan caught up to her. “Look, we’re sorry, we—”
She put on her best ‘Ida’ voice. In a haughty tone, she replied. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Squaring her shoulders, she held out her hand. Dan took it. “It was nice seeing you both again. Have a great Thanksgiving.”
She pulled her hand back and walked away, her head held high.
She stopped when she reached the cash registers.
Pasting a smile on her face, she resumed her responsibilities.
Ben walked over to her. “What changed yo
u, Carlee?” He shook his head. “What happened to our little warrior—the girl with the long curly hair and the cut-off shorts, the young girl with big dreams?”
She lifted her chin, angling it in his direction. “This is my dream,” she stated, her voice flat. She held out a hand, gesturing toward the crowds mingling near the registers. “And I was never yours.” She glanced at Dan. “Or Dan’s.”
The corner of her eye trembled. She hated that he saw it.
Ben didn’t say a word.
She realized, he didn’t have to.
Chapter Four
Dan waited outside the poultry store. A few minutes later, Ben joined him.
“That went well.” Dan stated with biting sarcasm.
The wind scattered the remaining dry, crisp leaves of a nearby tree. Ben pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. “I wanted to apologize to her,” he mumbled. “But I blew it.”
“Yeah, you did a great job.” Dan zipped up his jacket and started to walk away.
Ben ran to catch up with him. “I didn’t expect to see her.”
Dan raised a brow. “I didn’t expect no underwear.”
Ben shook his head, a corner of his mouth lifting. “Hell, neither did I.”
“She was always outrageous. Always doing things for attention.”
“Well, she got mine today.”
Dan snorted. “Nothing’s changed, yet, I feel like it has. It’s like time’s frozen, in your mind, then, you’re hit with reality.” He gave Ben a sideways glance. “Did you have to laugh at her lopsided chest?”
“Well, you seemed pretty damned amused when her false eyelash ended up on your jacket, so don’t blame all this on me.”
After a prolonged silence, the two of them erupted into laughter.
“False eyelashes…” Ben snorted.
Dan grinned. “…and don’t forget those crazy things she had in her bra.”
“Falsies. I can’t believe she was wearing falsies.” Ben replied. His body stiffened. “And no goddamned underwear.” He sighed. “Shit.” He started to pace back and forth.
Kissed by the Sun Page 2
